


Allez Savoir Pourquoi

by edgarallanrose



Series: Season 13 Codas and Ficlets [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x12, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s13e12 Various and Sundry Villains, I'm going to talk about fifth base for the rest of the year, M/M, Smooching, and it's only february
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 20:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13555035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgarallanrose/pseuds/edgarallanrose
Summary: “Cas, we’ve gotta stop these tragic, late-night payphone calls, okay?” Dean said. “I’m gonna hide seven different cellphones in the pockets of that damn trench coat so next time you come back from the dead or escape Hell it won’t be such a chore to get a ride home.”“Okay, Dean,” he said. Even over the crackly static of the shitty payphone Dean could hear the smile in his voice. “I will hold you to that.”Episode Coda for 13x12: Various and Sundry Villains





	Allez Savoir Pourquoi

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers, unbeta'd, etc. Y'all know the drill.

Dean’s cell battery was at nineteen percent, which was why he almost didn’t answer when there was a call from an unknown number. He’s not exactly sure why he didn’t just let it go to voicemail. Maybe it was the painkillers mixed with booze. Maybe it was because Sam had to go to bed at ten frickin’ thirty and left him all alone with nothing but beer and the frozen bag of vegetable medley on his knee for company (he’d need something else soon, the bag was starting to get soggy). Then again maybe it was just an impulse to answer, because Dean blinked at his phone for several seconds before realizing he should hold it to his ear and speak.

“Hello?” Dean slurred into the phone.

Christ, he was tired.

“Dean, it’s me, Cas.”

“Hey, pal, I meant to call you earlier but, you are not gonna believe this, but…hold on,” Dean frowned, looking back at his phone screen. “What the hell number you callin’ from?”

“It’s a payphone outside a rest stop. Through a series of very exciting events that I will recount for you later I was able to catch a Greyhound back to Lebanon and we just stopped for a ten-minute break,” he sounded winded, tired. “I should be at the bunker in an hour and a half.”

“A Greyhound? You’re not making any sense, aren’t you tailing that lead in Spokane? You said you’d be another week at least.”

There were several seconds of silence.

“When did I tell you this?”

“Shit, yesterday? Or two days ago, technically, it’s a quarter past midnight.”

“Dean, I’ve been in Hell for weeks.”

“Sure feels that way.”

“Dean. Literally. I was locked in a cell.”

Dean slowly put the pieces together.

“Asmodeus,” Dean said, putting his head in his hands. God, the next time he got that motherfucker in his sights…

There was some commotion and the sound of voices in the background of the call.

“I have to get back on the bus,” Cas said, “I’ll be there soon, I’ll explain everything.”

“Cas, we’ve gotta stop these tragic, late-night payphone calls, okay?” Dean said. “I’m gonna hide seven different cellphones in the pockets of that damn trench coat so next time you come back from the dead or escape Hell it won’t be such a chore to get a ride home.”

“Okay, Dean,” he said. Even over the crackly static of the shitty payphone Dean could hear the smile in his voice. “I will hold you to that.”

\---

True to his promise, the door to the bunker swung open at approximately two in the morning. Dean had relocated himself to the war room, stretching his leg across an extra chair and now holding frozen peas on his knee. He was going to ruin all of Sam’s vegetables by morning.

Dean had made a pot of coffee – partly to help wait up for Cas, partly because he knew Cas would also want some – and told Cas so. Cas nodded, heading to the kitchen before another word was spoken between them.

Back in the war room Dean caught Cas up, and then Cas related his end of the story. As Cas spoke he kept his hands pressed against the side of his coffee mug. Dean wasn’t sure if angels really needed to keep their hands warm, but the gesture was endearing regardless.

“Maybe, um, don’t mention the Lucifer thing to Sam just yet,” Dean mumbled into his mug, still drinking though his own cup had long since gone cold. “Especially if you don’t think he’s 100% dead.”

“High emotional stress has been giving him brief access to his powers,” Cas said, “stabbing him apparently triggered it enough he was able to teleport away. He could be anywhere. Weak, certainly, but not dead.”

“Like a goddamn cockroach.”

“However,” Cas said sternly, trying to repress a smile at Dean’s stupid joke, “I am not on ‘Team Keep Vital Information Away from the Ones You Love to Protect Them’ anymore, Dean. We know better. I won’t lie to Sam.”

“I’m not asking you to lie,” Dean said, “just…refrain from telling the whole story until we figure some stuff out.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Dean sighed, throwing his arms out dramatically. Cas rolled his eyes. “But you get to deal with the emotional aftermath.”

“Has it really been that bad?” Cas asked, quietly, as if Sam could hear through the several feet of brick and cement that separated them from his room.

“Been a while since I’ve seen him this low.”

It killed Dean to admit this since he still didn’t know how to fix it. He had even started googling local shrinks before realizing that professional help wouldn’t get them very far. If Sam started talking about visions of the devil he’d be committed…again.

“And how are you, Dean?” Cas asked, his voice tinged with a different kind of quiet softness. Concern. _Love_. It made the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand up.

“Besides the knee? Peachy.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Cas said, abruptly standing to move towards Dean, placing a hand on his knee and letting the cold flow of grace seep into his bones. Dean also felt the relentless headache he’d had all evening, but hadn’t mentioned, slowly fade away as well. He smirked at Cas in acknowledgment and Cas winked back.

Good lord, Dean had created a monster.

Dean moved his restored leg off the chair and Cas took the opportunity to sit in it instead, facing him, close enough their knees touched. Dean could just reach out and…

Dean wished he was still drunk.

He rubbed his face with the back of his hand, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt. He took a deep breath but instead of playing it cool he found himself blurting out,

“Have you ever heard of fifth base?”

“Context, Dean,” Cas said, amusement crinkling his eyes.

“What?”

“I need context. Base substances? Base value? Bass guitar?”

“Sex stuff, Cas. I mean the sex stuff.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Cas said lightly.

“The bases you have to pass before you hit a homerun, pal, the four F’s,” Dean explained, ticking each one off on his fingers as he listed, “French, feel, finger, fuck.”

“I fail to see what France has to do with any of this.”

“Listen, smartass,” Dean said, “you may have everyone else fooled with the naïve, confused angel thing, but not me. I know you know what a French kiss is.”

Cas dropped the act and laughed, truly, deeply laughed, and Dean laughed with him. Their legs and knees drifted closer together, bodies leaning towards each other.

“Maybe I was just hoping you’d demonstrate for me,” Cas said.

Dean stared, slowly leaning back in his chair again, placing his hands firmly on top of his thighs.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said quickly, mimicking his posture, “I – I’ve been around Lucifer too long, I got used to being a little free with my words, we can forget that I –”

Dean surged forward and pressed his lips to Cas, though he kept his hands safely in his lap. Dean let the kiss linger for a moment, closed mouthed and soft, before pulling away. Cas blinked at him slowly and Dean tried to put the phrase _batting his eyelashes_ out of his mind.

“You were right,” Cas said, touching his lips with the pad of his finger, frowning, “I know for a fact that was not a French kiss.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, friends!
> 
> First and foremost, would anyone want to read a follow up to this where, if Dean plays his cards right, he learns the real and true meaning of FIFTH BASE?? If so drop a comment and lemme know and I'll try and post one this weekend hwehwehwe. STAY TUNED!
> 
> Second, sorry I've been absent the last few eps/weeks. I graduated last month with my AA (WOO!) and transferred to an honors college to complete my bachelors (SOS!) so it's been hectic af. My intention, as always, is to continue posting on a regular basis but if I drop off the map for a week or two assume I'm drowning in academia. 
> 
> In the meanwhiles, come talk to me on [tumblr dot com!](https://www.edgarallanrose.tumblr.com) If you'd like to share this fic on tumblr, [please do](http://edgarallanrose.tumblr.com/post/170433905765/allez-savoir-pourquoi-edgarallanrose). If you'd like to watch Dean and Cas touch mouths on network television raise your hand and say, "Aye!"
> 
> Thanks for stopping by <3
> 
> Edit 2/5/18: Follow up is posted! Check out [Who's on First](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13584543).


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